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Among the 60 acts at TD Kitchener Blues Festival, Aug. 4-7

 
Waterloo Region Record
 

He's been humorously, if uncharitably described as "a gorilla in a suit" — by Bruce Springsteen, no less, who worships the ground he walks on.

And if you look at the grainy black and white videos of The Animals, you can see Eric Burdon's blunt, stocky torso straining against this arbitrary symbol of adult sophistication.

A gorilla with attitude.

Make fun, if you must, but the Newcastle hellion was a force of nature in the early days of Beatlemania, like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights, tapping into some ancient Id monster every time he unleashed his soulful, gritty vocals.

"House of the Rising Sun" was the big one.

He took that song, an old folkie standard covered by Bob Dylan, chewed it up with his gruff Newcastle wail and spit it out like a man possessed.

"There is a house in New Orleans," growled Burdon in a voice Springsteen described as "Howlin' Wolf coming out of some 17-year-old kid."

"They call the Rising Sun."

There were other hits — most of them aggressive declarations of independence: "It's My Life," "We Gotta Get Out of This Place," "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood," Burdon's emotive roar imbuing each with a resilience and attitude that, 50 years later, seem timeless.

I had the opportunity to email the 75-year-old legend about his life, influences and the state of music today.

Unlike most celebrity interviews, there are no glib, tossed off responses. And there's no doubt about who wrote them.

Burdon is a guy who says what he means and means what he says, a principled perfectionist 'til the end.

In the wake of police shootings and escalating racial tensions, we keep hearing about 1968 — how the tumultuous political climate of that time is repeating itself once again. As a '60s icon on the front lines, how do these two eras compare? Where are the protest songs of today?

I don't know where the protest songs of today are. One big difference between 1968 and today is the advent of cellphone cameras. Injustices are harder and harder to hide. They are caught on video and transmitted instantly to the entire world — and are harder and harder to ignore.

We didn't have the Internet back then, but we did have the frustration that was passed on, word of mouth. We didn't have the communication systems that we have today, which made it even worse. Anger was building up, blood was boiling.

It wasn't just in America. It was all over the place. The whole world had cracked. England was at war with Ireland. The French were coming back from Algiers.

We had the war in Vietnam. Guys were being drafted and dying as soon as they got off the plane. It was hell. We were shipping young people off to their deaths, sucking up their lives like a Hoover carpet cleaner.

I mean the Chicago (Democratic) Convention was unbelievable. The police were so violent. They were told to be, by their boss, Mayor Daley. They set dogs on people. Against the kids, who were innocently practicing their right to complain. That's the way it was.

We had the assassination of Bobby Kennedy. We never got over it. And there was the Mexico City Olympics when the black athletes stood in defiance, it was a revolutionary act of Black Power.

It is sad to think that 50 years after Martin Luther King's death, racism is still an issue. And it's not the only issue. Religion and religious intolerance can get us in deep trouble. The boot print the West left on the Middle and Far East has come back to kick us in the head.

We should be moving forward! We should understand that violence and fanaticism are never the answer — that peace is, as ever, our only real chance. We have better things to do than fight among ourselves.

We are brothers and sisters. Let's unite and stand together, against war, famine, global warming, disease and hunger.

My generation dreamed of a peaceful, prosperous world, and it is sad that I'm 75 years old and haven't seen a single day of global peace in my entire life.

It seems that music no longer influences culture like it did back in the day. Musicians are no longer leaders in the fight for progressive change. What happened?

It may seem that way. But you still have Jimmy Cliff out there. His latest CD, "Rebirth," has a lot of songs that reflect the struggles we face today, gun violence, etc. His influence is everywhere, from Paul Simon to the Clash to everything since.

You still have Neil Young, Springsteen, Sting, Peter Gabriel, Ben Harper, Sinead O'Connor, Lorde. I'm still singing for peace and justice every night.

I don't know where the younger generation stands today. I haven't seen the equivalent of a Bob Dylan or a Bruce Springsteen.

Sure, the '60s was a unique time when young people were under threat, from the draft, from outdated attitudes. And the people making popular music were part of that wave and we reflected that in our music and back to our audiences.

The industry is different today, the radio has disappeared and times have changed.

I still have hope that a new music will emerge from the threats we face today with that kind of spirit.

Speaking of progressive change, you intersected briefly with the band War in the early '70s, known for its racially integrated makeup and songs about brotherhood and peace. How much impact would a band like that have today?

The experience with War was great while it lasted. It expressed everything I felt, musically, back then. It reflected the rich diversity that LA had and still has today.

I don't think that War would seem out of place today. A lot depends on how it's received and who is listening.

In 1970 you had a hit with one of the most amusing/unusual songs in rock history: "Spill The Wine." What was your inspiration for this stream-of-consciousness tale of "an overfed, long-haired leaping gnome" who stars in a Hollywood movie?

It was back in the days when the label would put you in a studio and let the tape roll.

While most of the band was across the street having lunch, I was taking a break, lying on the floor of the studio.

My Puerto Rican girlfriend strolled in and Lonnie Jordan started playing a beat to reflect her body movement. I grabbed the microphone and started rapping.

At the time, the California wine industry had no real grasp of how to produce red wine. It was more like spill it than drink it.

The engineer captured the moment. When the band returned from lunch, we played it for them and we recorded it right away. It was an improvisational piece that found its way to the top of the charts.

When I started performing the song, copious amounts of Red Mountain were spilled on to the crowds and it became like a new age, hippie baptism.

Who is the "overfed long-haired leaping gnome"? (don't tell me it's you)

Ok, I won't tell you …

"When I Was Young" is one of the great Animals anthems, a prototype punk/grunge volley considered ahead of its time: "My faith was so much stronger then/ I believed in fellow man/ And I was so much older then /When I was young.''

You wrote it at 25 from the perspective of a much older man. How do the lyrics resonate with you today, 50 years later?

I wrote "When I Was Young" so that I could sing it today, 50 years later. It still works as I intended it to.

It was written from the point of view of an older person because I had already been through a lifetime's worth of changes with the Animals and the success we attained at an early age.

It's a simple fact that when you're young, the world is full of beauty, wonder and infinite possibilities. Anyone can relate to remembering their youth and we all tend to glorify it.

George Harrison was "in love" with that song, he told me, at a party at Eppie's (Brian Epstein) house.

You have more than a few working class anthems in your catalogue: "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood," "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place," "It's My Life." Why does this particular subject matter strike such a nerve?

Newcastle was a working class town. My father was a working man and I was surrounded by coal miners, merchant seamen, hard-working people.

I still have a strong work ethic and feel a bond with people who work hard. At the end of the day, it's the work we've done that gives us satisfaction.

You're one of rock's Great Agitators. Where does that spirit of restless rebellion and alienation come from?

It comes from my soul. I believe we inherit certain strengths.

As a boy, I had asthma, and was never a part of the team. I couldn't run or jump as well as the other kids, but I ultimately found my strength in my voice.

Ever since I grabbed that first microphone, I knew there was no turning back. Years later, the punk politics said it for me. The truth is, there is still plenty to rebel against. I choose to rebel peacefully, with my music.

Like every rock band, The Animals had infighting — over money, copyrights, etc. For guys who started out as friends, with nothing, why does this sad trajectory seem so inevitable?

Starting with nothing and then one person taking more than his fair share can really sour the whole thing for everybody. Not to mention the egos that begin to collide.

John Lennon once said that it was no wonder the Beatles split up but it was a wonder how long the Stones stayed together! But even they had plenty of turmoil within the ranks.

Classmates who are thrown out into the world while just becoming adults are bound to have differences.

Being in a band is like being married, except you're married to five or six guys at the same time. It requires lots of sacrifices and a willingness to compromise to keep the spark alive.

Being the frontman I got more press so suddenly posters on the street said Eric Burdon and the Animals.

I had no hand in this but there I was, misunderstood, right in the middle of it all, with plenty of anger directed at me.

During his keynote address at 2012's South by Southwest music fest, Bruce Springsteen called The Animals "a revelation'' who made "the first records with full-blown class consciousness that I'd ever heard."

He described "We Gotta Get Out of This Place" as "every song I've ever written ... that's 'Born To Run', 'Born in the U.S.A.', everything I've done for the past 40 years, including all the new ones.''

What's it like to feel "relevant" at 75?

It was a nice surprise to hear what Springsteen had to say.

It is always good to be acknowledged by one's peers, and I feel fortunate that there's been a resurgence of interest in my music recent years.

I feel that I still have a lot to contribute artistically, and Springsteen's kind words were extremely encouraging to me.

In 1966-67 you went psychedelic and moved away from the blues-rock on which you built your reputation. I love both eras, but find it interesting how the psychedelic stuff seems very much "of its time" while the kick-ass rock 'n' roll seems relatively undated. Your thoughts?

Rock & Roll is timeless because it transcends the fads and fashions of the music industry.

It isn't merely a sound; it's a lifestyle.

The psychedelic stuff was a response to a moment in time: a moment in which our generation was searching for new ways to see reality, and new sounds to express what we saw.

This is not to say that the psychedelic music is a complete point off the curve. All of my experiments were, and indeed, are firmly rooted in rock and the blues.

When I was a kid, I wrote the word, "blues," with my own blood in one of my notebooks. The stuff just runs in my veins.

I can't let you go without a question about "House of the Rising Sun," which holds up better than almost anything from that era. When you perform it today, how do you access its visceral power?

The song is historical and my relationship with it goes way back to the folk clubs, where I first heard the song.

It contains some eternal truths — and a haunting melody that works its way into your head.

If I ever think I'm tired of doing it, on paper, I only need to hear the opening bars, and I'm there, in the song again. The floodgates open, and all the old emotions come pouring out.

How has your connection with music changed since you first stepped up to a mike more than 50 years ago? What drives you at this point?

Apart from my (almost biological) need to express myself musically, I'm driven on by the energy and enthusiasm of my fans. It is an unbelievable feeling to see their faces and feel their love and good vibes.

My fans and I have been through a lot together, and I feel that we've got each other's backs.

Two days ago, during a performance in Sacramento, it really shook me when the crowd and the uniformed security guards started getting in each other's faces. Simply because my fans were enjoying themselves, getting up and dancing in front of the stage.

It could have turned nasty. I stopped singing and from the stage I told the officers to chill out. That my contract specifies no uniforms in front of the stage area, so read the contract.

Suddenly it was over and the right to boogie continued. So rock on. See you in Kitchener.

 

TD Kitchener Blues Festival

 

Aug. 4-7

Stages across downtown Kitchener

60 acts including Eric Burdon & The Animals, Foghat, Cowboy Junkies, Matt Minglewood Band, Big Sugar, Valdy, Pat Travers, Chilliwack and many more.

For complete lineup: kitchenerbluesfestival.com.

Admission is free except for Thursday night kickoff concert featuring Eric Burdon, Foghat and Earl & The Agitators.

Tickets available in advance at Orange Monkey, Encore Records or online at www.ticketscene.ca

http://www.therecord.com/whatson-story/6789402-eric-burdon-rock-s-great-agitator-/

 

 

 

 

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The SPL Rocks!

Prego che tu stia danzando con San Pietro alle porte perlacee del cielo





Pulled up to my house today
Came and took my little girl away!
Giants Stadium 8/28/03



Oats

Last edited by Oats
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